


Beloved

by silvertrails



Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Arakáno is out of the Halls, waiting for Ehtelë (Ecthelion) to come out.





	Beloved

**Beloved  
By CC  
September, 2008**

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

The story is set in Tirion. I am assuming that Fëanor’s twins, Arakáno and Glorfindel were born in the same year, and that Ecthelion is one year younger. In CC-verse, Glorfindel is Findis’ son. Findis is Finwë’s canon older daughter. Ehtelë means: issue of water, spring.

Thank you to Suemichave, for beta reading this story. =)

* * *

Arakáno had visited his mother as soon as he came out of the Halls. He had been released on the other side of the city, near a creek, and only after talking to his mother had he realized the reason. His place was no longer in his father’s house. Even if Arakáno loved his mother dearly, he was no longer the same young elf who left Tirion in search of a new land. He was different now, even if he had died in battle as soon as he set foot on Middle-earth. His brief taste of adventure had changed him forever. Arakáno had returned to the creek and built a house for himself, and since then the song of the water had lulled him to sleep. 

The creek reminded him of Laurëfindil and Ehtelë singing while setting camp with Arakáno and the twins. Those times were long gone, Arakáno mused, and would never come back. He sighed softly as he lay down in bed, wondering why the creek seemed to be silent tonight. It made his heart ache for the past, of dreams of love and adventures that vanished with the pain of betrayal, with the cold and the death that followed. Arakáno still mourned the loss of the twins to a path of destruction and pain.

He had visited Laurëfindil, now named Glorfindel, when he was released from the Halls. Arakáno had slowly become used to the strange name in the strange language the Elves released from the Halls spoke. Glorfindel had taught him the basics, but the elves in Tirion still spoke in Quenya, so Arakáno had forgotten most of it. He remembered his father’s and siblings’ new names, and he knew of the name some elflings had received in his honor: Argon. It sounded strange. Arakáno felt as if he didn’t belong anywhere, and when other elves thanked him for killing the Orc chief, all he felt was loneliness and pain. 

Glorfindel had told Arakáno about his life in Middle-earth, and how he and Ehtelë, now called Ecthelion, had followed Turukáno to his hidden city. Ecthelion and Glorfindel had stayed together after Arakáno died.

“I loved you both,” Glorfindel said, “but the link between you and Ecthelion was stronger. We tried to fill the emptiness in our hearts, but it was never the same without you. Wait for him, Káno.”

“And what about you, Fin?” Arakáno asked. 

“I will go back to Middle-earth,” Glorfindel said. “I am needed there.”

They had made love that night, and stayed together until the morning. Parting had been difficult, but Glorfindel needed to find his own path. Arakáno had stayed in the house, feeling emptier than ever and waiting for the one who would come and fill his heart. It had been a long time since Glorfindel left, and still Ecthelion had not been released. Arakáno sighed and closed his eyes, still aching for the song of the creek.

He dreamed of thick braids and soft brown hair framing a face that filled his dreams since he left the Halls. They had been very young when death separated them, and it was that youthful face Arakáno saw when Ecthelion leaned down and kissed him. 

“Ehtelë,” Arakáno whispered, pulling the slim body closer as he gave into the kiss. Warmth that soon became heat filled Arakáno’s whole being, and for a moment all they did was kiss and touch, forgotten sensations slowly filling his body with pleasure. Glorfindel had been so right, Arakáno mused as he and Ecthelion rolled over the bed until the younger elf was under him. Only now did Arakáno feel complete.

_I hope you find what you are looking for in Middle-earth, cousin..._

“Káno...” Ecthelion’s voice called Arakáno back from his musings. 

“My life, my love,” Arakáno murmured, reaching to unbraid Ecthelion’s hair, marveling once again at its softness, wishing he could touch the real thing and not an image in a dream.

_No..._

Arakáno shivered.

“Hush, stay with me,” Ecthelion said, framing Arakáno’s face gently, brushing his tears lovingly. Arakáno struggled for control. Why was the dream so vivid now? Why was he falling apart when he had his lover back? Arakáno knew the answer: the emptiness would be worse when he woke alone.

“Ehtelë, I...”

“I will never leave you, Káno,” Ecthelion said softly. “I will always be with you. All you have to do is listen to the creek’s song.”

Arakáno nodded, holding to the beloved form tightly, wishing he were not crying and ruining the most beautiful dream he ever had. Why was Ecthelion moving away? Why was he leaving? The dream was dissolving into the morning haze.

“No! Please stay!”

There was a hand on Arakáno’s cheek, and soft lips parted his own. Arakáno relaxed and tried to sink back into the dream, but something was different. He could hear the creek outside, and a soft voice was calling his name while a hand gently stroked his hair. Arakáno opened his eyes.

“Tel?”

Ecthelion smiled and Arakáno wondered if he was still dreaming. “I was wondering if you’d ever wake, Káno. I was happy watching you sleep, but you became agitated, and I worried.”

“I was dreaming of losing you again,” Arakáno whispered, still unsure if this was reality or a dream. 

“You have never lost me, Káno,” Ecthelion said quietly. “I have always been yours.”

Arakáno smiled, and pulled Ecthelion close for a kiss. If this was a dream, he would to never wake up again. They made love slowly and sweetly, relishing every touch and every kiss, until the world exploded into swirling colors and pleasure filled their bodies. They were one again, and the emptiness vanished as they fell asleep in each other’s arms. They awoke together, hand in hand, and the birds sang outside the window. As Ecthelion claimed his lips once again, Arakáno knew that the pain was finally over.


End file.
